


NODLOVE

by blurrycopaface



Category: Deadmau5 (Musician), Skrillex (Musician)
Genre: Bulimia, Dissociation, Drunk Sex, Eating Disorders, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, I, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Impulsive Hairshaving, Inspired by Music, Joel is kind of a dick, M/M, Mental Instability, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad Ending, Self-Hatred, Slurs, Unhealthy Relationships, also sorry I backtrack a lot, this isn't a very happy story sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21827428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurrycopaface/pseuds/blurrycopaface
Summary: All Sonny ever wanted was to feel loved, to feel important.Sonny often felt he was justtoo much.Joel didn't think he was capable of actually connecting with someone emotionally.Joel thought maybe he wastoo little.
Relationships: Deadmau5 | Joel Zimmerman/Skrillex | Sonny Moore
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	NODLOVE

**Author's Note:**

> I first began writing this fic when I was 14 years old, it was around the time that I was leaving some very abusive situations. I was really struggling at that time in my life and Sonny Moore and his music became a really big source of comfort and inspiration.  
> During this period, when I was experiencing psychosis and mental breaks, the Bells EP became very dear to me as it helped to ground and calm me and gave sound to the immense hurt I was feeling. I was inspired by these songs to create art that helped me cope, that’s where the inspiration for this came from. I wanted to put myself into Sonny’s character and feel out in words my own pain.
> 
> Almost 9 years later and this piece grew with me, I wasn’t able to finish it back then because I needed to have new, different experiences and relationships in order to add and subtract to it. I’ve gone through this fic, cleaned it up, tweaked it, added and deleted things and finally attempted to close this chapter of my life along with this story I set out to write.  
> I really was funneling a lot of pain, anger and desperation into this piece, so I apologize for it being a bit painful to read, a lot of it is very personal in many ways and I used it to vent over the course of several years.
> 
> Disclaimer- I don’t think Joel is an asshole, but I do think Sonny needs a hug.

_speaking in grays words, the passive and the civil_

  
  


The water was boiling. 

The water was boiling but Sonny didn’t realize it. 

A silly thing like a kettle didn’t matter at a time like this. He couldn’t believe what was happening in the current moment.

The night had started out fairly predictable, then dipped and curved like a goddamn roller coaster ride. 




Joel had offered for him to come over and crash at his pad for the night, this wasn’t a rare occurrence and of course Sonny hadn’t refused.

It’s not like he really had a reliable place with a warm bed, food and someone to talk to anyway. He appreciated the company and support Joel had offered him. Sonny wasn’t used to that, he was used to fighting for people to take notice or respect him and not just take him as the small, incapable kid he was painted as being. 

He had been illegally living out of this abandoned warehouse in downtown LA for a few months now, the green and blue paint was peeling off the walls, showing the black concrete underneath, it smelled moldy and was cold.

It kinda sucked. 

Okay it _really_ sucked. 

He was just about ready to give up on being able to make it as a solo artist when Joel found him at a show and scooped him under his wing, quite literally. He told Sonny he was mad talented and they became close soon after, hanging out consistently, going to clubs together, drinking, then walking around the LA streets after dark. Just talking and laughing until their faces and chests hurt. 

Joel would hand Sonny a cigarette and light it for him, then they would sit atop a hill and look down on the city lights together, just talking and sharing smokes. 

Joel was an incredibly intelligent person and Sonny loved to listen to him speak about stuff, music especially. 

The two of them spent time together in Joel’s massive studio, dicking around mostly. There was so much Sonny could learn about technically from him. He even brought up the proposal signing him to his record label: Mau5trap and that made Sonny’s chest flutter with excitement. 

_Being signed under Deadmau5?_ What an idea!

Joel had been one of his heroes for a long time, an inspiration, one of the reasons he even wanted to become a DJ in the first place, he couldn’t believe his ears at the suggestion and agreed almost hungrily.

Before all that had happened, it had only been a couple of months since the self produced release of Sonny’s first official EP under the name Skrillex.

“Skrillex” Joel would sneer, his lips curling into a sort of ugly smirk, “I think you’re more of a _goblin_.” 

He would tell Sonny, playfully shoving his shoulder while they would smoke outside together after shows. Sonny would hum, lazily taking a drag as his eyes were clouded with intoxication, but always knowing what Joel was going to say next. It was a little game of theirs.

“You’re _my_ little goblin.” Joel’s voice would be teasing and steely, almost an edge of possessiveness, a hint of salaciousness maybe. The older producer would be too drunk to have much reason and he would lean against the building nearest to them, playing with Sonny’s mess of hair, making the embers of his fag glow between paragraphs of speech. 

He would stare at Sonny with a penetrating gaze, Sonny never really sure if this was considered flirting or just drunk teasing, or _what_ , but he would awkwardly laugh and play along. Joel was hard to read.

“You’re doing great, man. They all love you s’much.” Joel would say and Sonny’s hands and feet would feel all tingly from the praise he was receiving, even if it was served with a side of an icy insult. 

This guy was, after all, a mentor in a way to him.

“Thanks dude, you’re the best.” Sonny always accepted and praised in return, unsure how else to respond, he valued his relationship with Joel too much to create any rifts between them, even if that meant allowing himself to be mocked now and again. 

It was fine, really.

Joel didn’t give kind words to just anyone, he really had to truly like somebody to give them even the benefit of the doubt. Joel must really like Sonny, he decided. And that made Sonny happy.

Everyone could see how peachy they had become. Sonny’s friends knew that every time he looked down to check at his blackberry, it was most likely Joel’s text messages he was reading. 

They would tease Sonny and say things like, “Is it your _boyfriend_ again?” Sonny would laugh, and joke along, “Oh yeah, just my Mau5 Daddy checking in on me.” And they would all laugh. But Sonny would be blushing and he would be avoiding the complex feelings towards Joel that had built themselves a home inside of his chest like a trapped bird.

Sonny was delicate. Sonny was _so, so_ delicate. 

And he hated to admit it. He didn’t want anyone to else see him as being weak. He already had admitted so much publicly, he didn’t know how much more he could expose his own brokenness without feeling completely naked as a newborn to the world. He had to keep some things hidden still.

And so he did.

It had been a while since the last time he purged. Maybe about 3 months, and before that, almost an entire year. 

The more recent time was when he was still living out of his car, when he had felt helpless and alone and frantically second guessing that _maybe_ he couldn’t make it on his own, _maybe_ he shouldn’t have moved away from his parents. 

Sometimes his thoughts wandered to whether he should have even left From First To Last, considering how successful the band was becoming just before Sonny’s departure, but he reminded himself how much he needed to leave, for his own sake and theirs.  
He didn’t want anyone to find out that he was struggling so much.

He _wasn’t_ weak, he couldn’t let himself be seen as such.

Even when his old band members called him up and asked how he was doing, asking if he needed some financial support, Sonny denied the fact that he was unsure where and how he could find housing, or who would be seriously interested in having him perform. His solo stuff hadn’t really taken off as much as he wanted, as much as he _needed._

Sure he got paid for the gigs he put on, but that was only few and far between, no one had heard of Sonny And The Blood Monkeys, let alone Twipz. 

Fuck Atlantic Records and not wanting to release his EP cause they thought it was ‘too avante garde’ and wouldn’t sell well. 

All they cared about was money. All Sonny ever cared about was creating.

He just ended up burning the cds with his band mates and sold them at shows himself, they didn’t make much of any money off it, spent more than he made simply to create merchandise and a tour and it left him nearly penniless and exhausted. 

But still, he knew he needed to make a purpose. 

He had been talking to local artists on Myspace, trying to get his stuff out there more and more within the electronic community. That’s what you had to do, make connections and push your way in until you are playing inside clubs where nobody really knows your name and everyone is drinking and dancing and not paying attention to you but at least you’re there and you’re playing music. 

Thankfully it wasn’t too terribly hard for Sonny to get a wedge in the door once he did meet some people. 

He was already fairly famous, he was a nice guy that was good at making connections and he had credibility as a musician and a singer. But a DJ? This was a whole new ball park. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a little overwhelmed with unfamiliarity.

Eventually he was able to move from his car into the warehouse to finish his first EP, which he self released on MySpace, and he just kept working so hard. All of his energy and time went into his music. It was his life. 

Nights spent blinking away the burn in his eyes, drinking peach Snapple and listening to a track called I Am Skrillex over and over and over again. Tweaking this snippet, changing the decay of this part. He loved what he did so much, it was worth all the trials and tribulations, all the backaches of sleeping on the couch and trying to keep his feet warm. 

But secretly he was slowly unraveling. 

He wasn’t eating, barely sleeping, drinking booze like water and smoking Camels like air and just grinding himself so hard to create this new sound, this new image. 

In a way he knew subconsciously that he was running from his past, he was running from Sonny Moore, this kid that had been in and out of hospitals, who was screaming their lungs out onstage about how much pain they were in, this kid that puked their guts up after almost every meal, who smeared makeup on their skin and hid behind their ratted black hair because they couldn’t stand the sight of their own face. 

He wanted to kill and bury that Sonny, he wanted to forget that he ever existed. That person was weak, scarred and broken. He wanted to become new, he wanted to become _Skrillex,_ a new name, a new identity, a power to be reckoned with, a persona who wouldn’t be known as a face, or even a voice, but a _sound_. 

Sonny broke one night around 4 in the morning, he was so frustrated with this stupid part of a song that he slammed his fist against his keyboard, rising up and away from his cramped desk area. He reaches for a pack, sparking up to eagerly inhale the burn of smoke.

Socked feet drag against the cool hard concrete as he paces between the small alcove of a kitchen with a tarnished fridge that barely held a crumb, to the far wall that had a brown beat up couch pushed against it, and back to the corner of his makeshift studio. It wasn't much of a studio, really. One of the speakers, which he bartered from a guy in East Hollywood, was blown, and the power outlet gave him trouble having a laptop, keyboard, mic, sound equipment and MIDI board all hooked into one extension cord, but he tried to make it work.

Sonny nibbles at his fingers, sucks on his cigarette as he continues his monotonous loop around the apartment, feet getting colder by the second.

He felt so inhibited and coiled up, over obsessed with his work he had barely done much else for the past few days.

He had to _do something._

His eyes searched desperately in his apartment space, for an escape or a distraction but nothing seemed to keep his attention for a satisfactorily long amount of time.

Glancing into the foggy mirror that hung above his bathroom sink, he noticed how exhausted and disheveled his own image was. Cracked and peeling like his surroundings. He wanted to dig his own nails into his skin and rip it away like layers of bark.

Hair as black as a raven’s wings, tangled, unwashed and matted it almost swallowed up his pale soft face. Sonny ran fingers through it only to have them catch in tangled webs of black. He watched his lip quiver as he feels his own face heat up.

Tears released themselves like the first few drops of warm salty rain.

 _Pain, pain, pain_.

Was all his brain was filled with. It consumed his very being in combustion.

This was always the hardest part: the feeling of being totally swallowed up by emotions, by a voice inside of you that starts to tell you every possible terrible thing. Sonny tugs hard on the black strands, the sensation sending a stinging shiver of aliveness through him.

He hated everything about himself. The skin of his face which was textured like a calloused ocean rock, his smile which was lopsided, his stomach and legs which seemed too wide and too feminine, his fingers which were short and big and his crooked nose which never healed quite right since a kick to the face at Warped Tour when he was 17. Nothing about him was normal or beautiful, he felt cumbersome and repugnant.

Like an alien walking around in a pristine world of beautiful porcelain people all wearing masks. He didn't belong and he never would.

Sonny knew he had to get these thoughts out of his head or they would burn into his very skull.

Walking into the small dark restroom of the warehouse, Sonny opens a drawer with shakey hands and finds what he is looking for. He places the razor on the small sink, leaning against the rim of it as he leers at the shining metal. This was a special razor, always the last one in the pack he used to shave his face with, but this one wouldn't be used for shaving.

Sonny exhales smoke, then biting at his own tongue: presses the lit nub of his cigarette against his own inner arm. He hisses as it fizzles out against his flesh, leaving a bright angry welt in the white softness. The burn satisfied him only temporarily. _Maybe that would work_ , he had thought, but he still felt tense and destructive, like something had to be let out of it's cage. He shakes his own head and puts the razor back into the bag, stuffing it into the back of the drawer. "No." He whispers. He was trying to be better, he really was. He was trying to find a different way to get out this cacophony of feeling.

Sonny tosses his hair in front of his face as he cries, gripping harder now at the cold white sink, fingers turning the same bone white color. He dares to look at the mirror. He knew that could possibly plummet him more. He blinks his black eyelashes, wet and sticky with tears. His vision is blurry, _damn he needs to see the eye doctor soon_ , and he reaches a hand to tug at a tendril of locks again harshly. He loved his hair, really, but he hated himself right now and wanted to destroy a part of it.

Sonny opens a different drawer this time, sifting through random items he should probably get rid of until he finds what he is searching for and plugs it into the wall. The lighting isn’t the best, but it’s enough to see his reflection.

_I want you gone._

He tells his own face, hands shaking as he flipped the switch up on the electric razor.

 _I want to forget_.

With yet another large exhale, this time one without smoke, the locks of black hair started to fall to the bathroom tile. The buzzing of the electric razor was loud and reverberated against Sonny’s skull.

The scrape felt so nice, the cold metal of the razor. Even if it wasn't the razor he initially wanted.

_You are nothing._

Sonny wanted to prove that by damaging a physical part of his own person.

_Kill and bury._

Tears stream down the texture of his cheeks.

Ocean rocks.

Slowly with rapid thrumming heartbeats he comes to realize his own actions and he stops. The silence of the bathroom nearly deafening and in the lack of sound, Sonny ogles at what he had just done to himself.

“Oh _shit_.” He whispered under his breath.

As he looked into the mirror and blinked the blur of tears from his eyes, he saw how the hair on half of his head had been haphazardly shaved off. 

He had used his thick hair to hide behind for so much of his young life, it was like a dark safety blanket between him and the rest of the world. But now he had pretty much just removed that safety blanket.

“Well...fuck.” He wiped at his face as he calmed down from his spiral, feeling more in control of his mind and body with every passing heartbeat.  
This was always the easiest part: the comedown. But sometimes realizing the aftermath of what you had done was even worse than the loss of control itself.

“This looks so stupid.” He grumbled at himself and shook his head in agitation, rubbing his still wet eyes. “I guess might as well _try_ and make this fucking work.”

Thankfully he had stopped shaving before he had gotten much farther with the initial intent of removing all of his hair, or else it would have looked really bizarre. He filled the room with the loud buzz again and gingerly touched up the area that was subject to his impulsiveness, careful to avoid dipping into more of his still intact mane. He breathes as a he does this, the sound soothing to him.

It takes him a few minutes and meticulously passing back over the same area to actually even it out enough to make it look purposeful, but Sonny feels rather triumphant. He touches the buzzed side of his head with curious calloused finger tips.

It felt funny, so short and prickly, the skin of his scalp sensitive and unused to being so exposed. He shivers and smiles a little at himself in the mirror, saying, “This is actually-this is kinda cool. Maybe this will be a new thing for me.”

Encouraged by his accomplishment, he dedicated himself to finishing work on his current song. He brushed the remaining mess of his hair into tamed locks and took a hot shower. He even used shampoo. It smelled like roses and made him feel pretty.  
Maybe he didn’t have to kill and bury. Maybe he could just transform.

It wasn’t long after that Sonny had met Joel. And that was exactly the kick in the ass that Skrillex’s career had needed. 

Joel was a name, a face, a peer who knew this whole highway of electronic artists like the back of his tattooed hands. 

Sonny felt so safe knowing that he had Joel rooting for him, Joel promoting him, Joel having him open for shows and introducing him to new people in the scene. Joel would walk up to a group of well known names and gesture to Sonny next to him, introducing him as “The goblin.” or “Skrilly-poo.” Sonny was grateful for Joel’s guidance, even if it was a little mocking, a little degrading at times. 

He knew Joel approve of and supported him. He was grateful for Joel.




And yet Joel was the reason Sonny had been face first in the toilet bowl again, fingers down his throat, sputtering and retching and clutching his stomach with one hand. 

Sonny felt torn emotionally, shaming himself for having such strong feelings for someone he knows he shouldn’t. 

He coughed and frowned, instantly feeling disgust and anger towards his current situation. 

“Gross.” He mumbled, more to himself than anything else and then flushed the contents away. 

Sonny hated himself for his heart and his head, the feelings he often formed for people that were too far out of his league that always fucked him over.

He hated how fucking needy he felt for other people’s approval and love. It had been so long he had been touched, that he had felt appreciated and wanted by somebody that any chance he got, he hugged as hard as he could, letting hands linger longer than maybe they should. His stomach wasn’t the only thing that felt empty.

He turned to face the mirror and look at himself. His newly prescribed glasses were slightly askew and he had sick smeared across his bottom lip still. 

He cursed at himself, “You’re so ugly.” His hands trembling, he reached out to punch the mirror, just to make his glossy reflection shudder like a wave. 

“Ugly,” He repeated with a crack to his voice, running his hands over his acne scarred face. “Why would anyone like you? Seeking attention, that’s all you ever do...” Wrapping arms around himself, he sinks to the bathroom floor and pretends someone was holding him, fingers gripping at his own arms as he squeezes tightly.

His eyes started to wet with tears and his mind started to cloud with a voice telling him awful things. This was an all too familiar situation, quickly tumbling down into a darkness that would most likely consume him for the night, but suddenly the vibration from inside a pocket tore Sonny from his trance of self sabotage and he lifted his blackberry to see an incoming call from Joel. 

His heart sped up, stomach tightening in knots at the poor timing of it all. 

_Fuck_. 

Joel didn’t know. He didn’t want him to know. But Sonny answered and Joel was saying that he’s working on something he wants Sonny’s opinion on, was going to send the mp3 over Skype. Sonny was very quiet, feeling like a child who was caught doing something they knew was wrong.

“Skrill?” Joel’s dry voice cut into Sonny’s congested thoughts. “Y-yeah.”

“Y’okay man? You’ve been awfully quiet during this whole time and normally I can’t get you to shut the hell up.” 

Sonny chews at his lip piercings, “Uh yeah, I think I need to just get out of here right now.” He clears his throat, trying to get the taste of bile from his mouth.

“Smells like rot and it’s cold as fuck.”

Joel took him to get pizza and as Sonny was uncomfortably nibbling at the pepperoni pieces on his huge greasy slice, Joel asked, “What the _fuck_ is wrong, dude?” with a mouth full of cheese, causing Sonny to startle from his own thoughts. 

Joel was good at reading him. He was _too good_ at reading him. Sonny couldn’t hide this, they were too close. He was bound to find out eventually, he decides.

Okay, _here goes_ , maybe Sonny was going to lose another friend who decided he was too much to handle _._

Taking a deep quivering breath, he began to speak. 

He told Joel how he first discovered he was being lied to about his birth parents, he told him about being hospitalized, seeing doctors repeatedly, attempting suicide and through it all Joel just listened stoically without a single movement.

Sonny finished and quietly held his own hands in his lap, picking at the skin on his fingers.

Joel was silent for a moment after Sonny had finished explaining the complicated relationship he had with food and his own body image. 

“So... you make yourself throw up?” Sonny didn’t know how to reply to the unembellished question, but he was distracted by the gesture of Joel sliding his hands across the table towards him. 

Joel takes the hand Sonny had been resting on the table in his own gently and it feels like an electric shock to be touched by somebody so suddenly. 

Sonny watches the interaction, eyes darting up to Joel’s but his own were not ready to meet Sonny’s just yet. It was kind, even through the bluntness of Joel’s query, it was like a silent promise of Joel being considerate and understanding of Sonny’s pain. 

The two stayed like that for a moment until Joel said, in almost a whisper that was drowned by the music of the pizza parlor, “I’m sorry.” And he removed his hands swiftly back to his own person to take another bite of food.

Joel cleared his throat loudly, “That’s pretty fucked up man.” Sonny winced. 

Yeah, Joel wasn’t too good with softness. And the fleeting moment was gone before Sonny even had a change to relish it.

Joel looked past Sonny, focusing on something behind him and he swallowed his food, licked his fingers and continued talking, 

“Well, I’m here if you ever decide you’d rather talk to me than be heaving into a toilet.” Now he made eye contact with Sonny and said rather seriously, 

“You better not puke up that pizza by the way, this is the best pepperoni in LA.” Sonny swallowed a response painfully.

Joel had a fucked up sense of humor, and a way of showing empathy. 

But Sonny accepted it like water and he was grateful. 

He was grateful for Joel. And he was grateful to feel some sort of love.




The next time after that, and Sonny was running for the bathroom, it was just before a show with Joel and right after he had eaten Taco Bell with him. 

Suddenly Joel was in front of him in the hallway, much taller and intimidating, looking directly at him, eyes dark and commanding under the brim of his baseball hat and Sonny suddenly felt very small and foolish. His own hand was outstretched towards the bathroom handle and it shook slightly as their gazes met. They didn’t speak, they just stared at each other for countless moments and Sonny could understand what Joel was trying to say without a word being spoke.

_Don’t you fucking dare_. His narrowed eyes had demanded.

It wasn't an option.

Sonny felt himself slowly melt, all intentions of purging leaving his mind, his hand dropped from the handle and Joel placed his own hand on his small shoulder, quietly turning him back around towards the dressing room of the venue so they could perform. Joel squeezes at Sonny's arm almost too hard and Sonny winces, wants to press himself into it, but refrains. Later at night he wraps his arms around himself again, wishing it were Joel.

They didn’t talk about it. But it became Sonny’s coping. And it became Joel's accountability. 

Sonny would be digging his nails into his own thighs, shaking from the thoughts coursing through him, the voice in his head screaming how he was ugly, unloved, too needy, undeserving.  
On and _fucking_ on. 

**j oel**

He would press send and it would take maybe 4 or 5 minutes before the phone screen lit up with a response:

**u ok?**

**no**

It was often 2 or 3 in the morning, as Joel never slept, and Sonny normally had episodes during the night.

Joel would be there within the hour and he would sit beside Sonny while he cried. Joel would come prepared and they would smoke, or drink. 

Sometimes Sonny would drink so much he would pass out on the couch and Joel would be gone in the morning, empty bottles in the trash. 

Or they would burn through a whole pack of ciggs, until the decrepit, cold warehouse filled with thick fetid tobacco smoke.

Joel even started bringing a box of tissues, the kind with blue elephants on the box. They were soft against Sonny's skin.

Sometimes, just _sometimes_ , Joel would scoot a little closer to Sonny and lay his hand gingerly on his back or leg and Sonny would bask in the physical contact. He really wished Joel would grasp him, wished he would stroke his hair and kiss his forehead and tell him that everything was okay, that he loved him so much and thought he was beautiful. But he knew that was out of the question in his delusional mind. 

It made his heart ache like a bullet wound. 

They still didn’t talk about it. Joel didn’t ask. And Sonny didn’t elaborate. 

After Sonny would calm down, his cheeks wet with tears, brown eyes blown out from sobbing and rubbing them against his knuckles, he would start smiling again, laughing even as Joel would shift the topic to start talking about some dumb shit like why the new Call of Duty didn’t have an accurate reload speed or how Dillon kept using the same stupid loops in all his tracks. Life was back to normal. Sonny just enjoyed being with Joel so much. And Joel enjoyed Sonny’s company just as equally.

Sonny had discovered for the most part that Joel was secretly very lonely too, even though he pushed other people away often, he deeply craved companionship. 

He began opening up the longer they spent time together, which had been a few months. Joel had never had much luck with relationships, he had explained. He found it hard to put effort into others without his ego coming into play, which Sonny thought was admirable for him to recognize. 

He judged people too harshly because they always judged him, they’d say he’s apathetic, he’s cynical, so maybe that’s how the world wanted him to be.

He hasn’t worked on that part of himself, the emotional part, and Sonny had a theory that he was just too scared to. 

Joel had shown just a sliver with his own struggles and Sonny lept at every opportunity to prove his loyalty to their friendship, to be there for him, just as Joel had been for Sonny.

If he needed him to pick up some beer, Sonny did. If he wanted to prank call him at 2 in the morning with a screeching wail in his ear, then Sonny just rubbed his eyes and laughed it off. If Joel called him _retarded_ or _midget_ , that was fine too.  
He tried not to take it too personally. It was just his humor. 

Joel felt he didn’t have many true friends, he knew hundreds of people, had plenty of connections, sure, but they were business, they were acquaintances, he wanted _true_ friends. 

The kind of friends that will stick with you through thick and thin and stay up until 5am just talking and laughing with you, and go on stupid drunk adventures together, like they do in movies. Sonny almost wanted to say, "That is _us_ , Joel." But he didn't know if Joel thought the same, didn’t know if Joel wanted to. But he understood that aching unrequited loneliness that his friend felt.

No one wanted to be friends with the asshole producer who cares too much about his own work to the point that he thinks everyone and everything else should come secondary. So why try and make friends? Joel felt he gave up on that long ago. He likes to think that he prefers being by himself, that he would be completely content just living alone with his cat and recording equipment for the rest of his existence, but Sonny knew better. 

He would push everyone away just to protect himself from becoming too attached, risking himself too. Everyone seemed to expect so much of him, but he could never give an adequate amount.

Sonny could understand that kind of self protection on a deep level that he couldn’t quite articulate. 

And he assumed that maybe Joel felt he was _too little_. 

Sonny was almost the complete opposite, he brought everyone in tightly, wrapping them up in a metaphysical blanket of energy and attention and connection, he tried to unconditionally love and protect others, always pointed out positives in situations, wanting to be there for his friends in any and all ways, wanting to be positive guiding light.

He had a gift for that, people would say, he lit up any room he came into and everyone wanted to know him. People found it easy to talk to him and trust in him, Sonny wanted to be there for others in every way that people hadn’t been there for him. He gave so much until it left him feeling leeched and exhausted. All just for approval, all just for friendship and what he thought was unconditional love. 

There were times he felt everything at once, his own energy was so hard to tame, like a tiger, so passionate and eager, so all over the place and overwhelming, so goddamn hungry and searching. Always searching for something. Anything. 

Sometimes Sonny felt he was just _too much._

It was sort of a catharsis for Sonny to be around someone who was more analytic, more realistic about the world than him.

Sonny was a dreamer and maybe that’s why Sonny liked Joel so much, Joel was like an anchor to reality. And maybe Joel liked Sonny back for bringing some spark of unorthodox silliness into his life. 

They complimented each other. Or at least that’s what Sonny liked to think. 

Joel provided a sense of comfort and attention to him that was, in it’s own twisted way, very real and very direct. It wasn’t sugar coated, it wasn’t babying or pitying like so many others had tried to give to him. It was just raw. It was just real.

Love never came without pain. That's how it's always been for the both of them.

Joel’s life didn’t revolve around Sonny and his emotional needs and the both of them knew that, Joel lived in Canada and so it was impossible for them to always be at the other’s disposal, but God did it scare Sonny with how much he felt he needed to have Joel’s presence there, just to stop himself from shaking.

He didn’t want to ask too much of him, he didn’t want to scare him away, like others prior, but he so deeply wanted to be able to count on somebody. 

Just for once.

_Protect yourself Sonny, you let people in too willingly._

His mother had told him that when he was 14 years old and was running away from home, Sonny was stuffing his belongings into a black tattered backpack, tears streaming down his face. 

His mother wasn’t upset he was leaving, she understood why. She simply warned him of the dangers of the cruelty of the world that threatened such a kind, soft soul like him. At the time Sonny was angry, he was desperate to leave and prove himself to everyone.

“You don’t know what I can and can’t do, Mom! I can take care of myself!”

He liked to open up, he liked letting people’s energies into his own, let it intermingle and fill up his own empty cracks, but why did they always have to end up hurting him and leaving him? Why couldn’t he just be good enough? Why did he have to be so complicated? 

He didn’t want to become too invested, Sonny had been thinking as he clutched his phone, hoping that Joel would respond to his invitation for afternoon coffee. 

_Don’t become too invested_ , but fuck, here he was becoming _completely_ invested. 

And that terrified him.

They had met at a lazy cafe next to a park. Joel got a drip coffee with some sugar and cream and Sonny ordered an iced vanilla latte. Joel cackles at him like a hyena, saying his order was “ridiculously gay” to which Sonny laughs awkwardly along with, punching him playfully on the shoulder.

They talk for a while, sitting side by side on a well used couch. Mostly music, but also personal life, Joel tells him he broke up with his most recent girlfriend, to which Sonny feels kind of glad about. 

He knows why he feels that way, but he doesn’t want to address it. 

They leave to smoke outside, Joel wrapping his arm around Sonny’s shoulder and leaning down to press the side of his face against the top of Sonny’s head. 

“Ya’know, you’re a cool guy, but sometimes I think you’re a little too easy.” Sonny scoffs, jabbing him playfully in the ribs with a finger. 

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean, man?” Sonny puffs on his cigarette as Joel walked down the heated LA sidewalk with the smaller man under his arm still. 

“Oh you know, _like_ , I just want to be sure that you don’t get hurt is all, the world is a fucked up place and it can be hard for someone as ultra sensitive as you to avoid that.” His mother’s words reverberated in his head just then and he felt a sudden flash of spite like a candlewick being lit aflame. Sonny pushed away from Joel to properly look up at him. 

“I’ve had _plenty_ of pain in my life, Joel, that’s not something new to me. Yeah I’m a nice guy, but, like, I can handle myself.” Joel laughed, turning to smirk at Sonny.

“Really? _You_? Take care of yourself? _Please_ , you are such a baby, all those fucking boxes of Kleenex I’ve had to buy for you proves my point in case.” 

Sonny made a mockingly loud laugh, feeling a deep sting from his friend’s teasing. Normally he would have let his stupid insults slide right off him, play along even, but he wasn’t in the mood for Joel to be a fucking smart ass with him right now. He’d had enough. 

“You know what Joel?” Sonny feels his face burn hot with anger as his voice starts to rise in volume. 

“Fuck you!” The damn of emotion broke and all the moments of biting his tongue in response to Joel’s bullying seemed to well up inside of Sonny’s chest. “You’re a fucking prick who is too scared to show his own _fucking_ emotions and it’s not my fault I fucking _express_ mine!” 

He turned, whipping his long black mane in Joel’s face as he starts to leave across the street.

“Sonny!” Joel yelled and Sonny felt him grab roughly at his arm, attempt to pull the other man back towards him.

“No, get your fucking hands off me!” Sonny spat and yanked himself free from Joel’s grip, he stumbled back into the street, nearly losing his own footing before turning to storm off across the hot pavement. 

He didn’t bother to look back, didn’t care. 

“Okay, crybaby!” He hears his friend yell and feels tears burn at his eyes.

Sonny was hurt, that wasn’t the first time Joel had said and done some dumb shit, he almost expected it from him at this point, but it still fucking hurt.

But you know what the worst part was? He was right, he couldn’t take navigating the battle field of his own head alone.

And he fucking _hated_ that.




They had a show together the next night, Joel hadn’t texted Sonny at all throughout the day and Sonny had almost forgotten that Skrillex was planned to perform until a friend messaged him asking what time he would be showing up. 

“ _Fuck_.” Grumbled Sonny as he rubbed his face in his hands. He had been alone in his makeshift apartment all day, eating corn chips and a package of 99 cent muffins, pacing around and off and on yelling to the walls in frustration.

He hated himself right now, not as much as he could, because he felt like he hated Joel more, but he wished he could stop shoving food in his mouth then feeling like a guilty son of a bitch, was considering a trip to the toilet right as he receives the notification on his phone.

He responded to the message from his friend about the show, it was almost 10:30pm and Joel would be starting his set around 11.  
Sonny groaned again and forced himself up from his seated position at his computer desk, back aching. He tossed the bag of chips in the trash and walked to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror briefly, running a hand through his entangled black mass of hair, fingers grazing the short shaved side of the left that he recently had reshaved.

He takes a deep breath, reaching into the depths of his mind for whatever confidence he could muster.

“Good enough.” He whispered and turned to exit.

Sonny watched conspicuously in the crowd while Joel fades in track after track on his set, sucking harshly on his cigarette and downing cups of beer and soda. 

He looked more tense than usual. Sonny tried to avoid being seen, but Joel’s eyes lock with his own and Sonny flushed with anger and embarrassment. 

He turned from the crowd to get a drink from the bar, hoping booze will calm him down from the lava of emotions boiling inside of him. 

Soon he was a few shots in and the room was gently swaying like a ship. He feels better. He wants to go on stage, because his scheduled appearance was supposed to be coming on now to play with Deadmau5, and he hated disappointing, but walking seemed like a chore at the moment. 

He skims his hand across the ledge of the bar to support himself, watching as the room changed colors from blue to green, to red to blue and back again. 

Somehow Sonny makes it up the stairs and behind the stage curtain. He talked to the friend who had texted him, downing another beer (or was it vodka now?) while he pretends to comprehend what his friend was saying. 

Next thing Sonny knew he was walking up to the stage, the ghost sheet over his head, he snuck up to Joel from behind, hands shooting out to jab into his sides maybe harder than he meant to.  
Joel jumped about a foot off the ground, and he turned around sharply, eyes ablaze as Sonny readied himself for whatever Joel would do next.

But to Sonny’s utter surprise Joel’s face softened almost immediately and his arms wrapped around Sonny’s smaller frame, he lifted him up in the air and squeezed him against his own body. 

Sonny let out a small, surprised yelp, not sure how he felt about this sudden unbridled contact against Joel’s chest. Joel was touchy with him, sure, but this was _way_ more than he was used to especially since Sonny figured him to still be upset. 

Joel set him down and spun around to yell something Sonny couldn't quite hear over the music. The ghost sheet was being lifted up off his head and Sonny growled, attempting to yank it back down from his grasp but Joel was suddenly under the sheet with him, his face close to his own, nose squished against his forehead awkwardly.

“Hey _goblin_.” Joel slurred, his breath smelling sour and hot. 

Sonny huffed, “You’re fucking drunk dude.” 

“S’are you, _idiot_.”  
Sonny scoffs, trying to look up at Joel uncouthly. 

“Well at least I’m not a fuckin’ _asshole_.” He emphasized the last word sharply with his tongue. 

Sonny felt Joel’s hand come to rest against his lower back, pulling him suddenly closer in against the other's hips. He tenses, gesture making his stomach feel fluttery and tight.

Joel’s mouth hovers right near Sonny's ear as he talks to him above the throbbing bass. 

“Look man, m’sorry kay?” Joel’s voice sounded softer, and more sincere, even while drunk. 

“I know you’ve been through a lot and you’re a strong guy, you really are. You aren’t afraid to show your true self...and I...I admire that.” 

Joel’s breath is against his neck and his fingers are rubbing small circles into his hips now, Sonny is trying to brush him off, not wanting to forgive him, scoffing and dismissing the burning blush on his face, and how his legs felt like jello.

“Well I’m glad to hear an apology, that’s like-like the first one I’ve ever heard from you.” 

His mind is fuzzy with alcohol as he tries to formulate something rhetorical and heated to say back, like how he was _still a jerk_ , but all his stupid boozy brain could come up with was, “You should, like, kiss me to make up for it or something.” 

Sonny hated how intoxication made you say stupid shit without filter. 

He felt Joel pull back away from him abruptly and he thinks, _fuck, I probably just fucked up big time,_ but before Sonny can even blink, there's a warm press of lips against his own and he is pretty sure he is dreaming. Either that or Sonny's brain had just short circuited.

Joel could _not_ be kissing him right now, could he?

Sonny tries not to moan, heart speeding up and just as he is is about to wrap arms around him and push into the kiss, Joel pulls away. He's looking at Sonny oddly and Sonny is trying to read wether Joel is intending this to be just platonic stupid drunk shit, or if there was really _something else_ there.  
Would he be able to tell it was something else for Sonny? Thankfully Joel seemed to have taken it as a stupid joke because he howled with laughter and poked him in the chest. 

“I bet you liked that huh, you fag?” 

The word hurt more than he cared to admit, but Sonny shrugged off the name calling, saying no and urgently trying to change the subject.

“We should probably like, _uh_ , DJ or something…” 

His eyes dart up to Joel’s and Sonny hopes the other man can’t see the blush that played fiercely across his cheeks. Joel yanks the sheet off them both and turns to announce that Skrillex would be performing with him now. 

After then the night was a blur of lights and thumping bass. 

Sonny forgot all about being mad at Joel, desperately seeking affection as he snaked an arm around his mentor’s waist, burying his nose into his shoulder to fill himself up with his smell. It was much easier to act on instinct for touch when intoxicated. 

And Sonny was _extra_ tactile when wasted. Wanting nothing more than to feel hands against him.

Joel gives back with just as much exuberance, petting his hair and touching at his hips throughout the whole night.

Sonny can't stop thinking about his friend's lips against his own. Thin firm fingers pressing into his arms and sides, threatening bruises.

He jerks himself off on the couch that night, coming so hard his closed eyes swam with a galaxy of white stars.

Things would be fine, Sonny thinks, he forgave Joel, even if maybe he actually needed more than just a few spoken words of flattery and a drunken kiss.

 _Things would be fine_.




A week from their performance was when Joel had invited him over to spend the night. They hadn’t been talking too much lately and Joel said it was because he was busy. But Sonny was terrified that the whole kissing situation had been too weird for Joel, even though _he_ technically was the instigator, maybe Joel was avoiding him now.

Sonny thought maybe Joel would want to hang out to show him some new music stuff, or to play Xbox, but when asked, all Joel responded with was:

**to talk**

Sonny’s stomach plummeted at that, usually Joel was more explanatory and it made him feel anxious to read such a vague answer.  
Why would Joel be so discreet with him? 

Sonny hoped nothing was wrong and got a queasy feeling in his stomach that he could have done something to jeopardize their relationship.  
His mind always went to that it must be _his fault_ when something happens _._

He mustered his strength best he could and gathered his things to leave for a sleepover.

When the two of them first walked in the door of Joel’s large open flat, he had offered to take Sonny’s jacket, which was odd. Joel wasn’t usually much of a gentlemen, especially not to Sonny. But the smaller man let him take it as not to seem rude. He hung the black leather on a rack and set Sonny’s bags near the door, then Joel meandered over to the chair near the glass coffee table, sitting himself into the old worn leather that was torn up from Meowingtons attempts at redecorating it. 

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Joel offered to the awkward-looking Sonny, pointing to the love seat on the other side of the table.

His tone was soft and smooth, unlike what Sonny was used to hearing which was a joking, smart ass tone ready to spit teasing words or dumb jokes. But he did as he was asked. 

His older friend watched him across the table, as if studying some sort of new species of bird. 

Said species of bird was trying to look away from his penetrating eyeballs, staring at anything else: the playboy magazines sprawled across the table, the collecting cat hair in the fibers of the carpet, anything, but his eyes always snapped back to Joel’s like a magnet. 

Sonny was fidgeting around, biting on the studs in his lip as anxiety brewed in his belly. 

He knew something odd was happening between them, you could cut the fucking tension with a butter knife. 

He thinks of asking if he could smoke inside, reaching for his pack in his pocket, but just then Joel loudly clears his throat. “So,” He begins and Sonny watches him expectantly. 

“How have your shows been going?” It had been a little over a year they had known each other now and Sonny had been playing his own sets more dependently as of late, so that was a reasonable thing to ask.

“Uh, _oh_ , yeah, they are good _man_.” Sonny’s voice cracks at ‘man’ and he fiddles with his long black hair while looking outside the tall windows of the flat. 

“S-so what did you want to talk about?” He ventures, while still avoiding Joel’s gaze. Joel stretches against the leather seat, swinging a long leg over his knee to adjust himself. 

“Oh, just business.” Sonny turns to meet his eyes this time and sees emptiness, a wall up. But he could tell this wasn’t about business and he bounces his own leg nervously. 

He wanted to just be upfront and pour his heart out to Joel, tell him how complex and intense his feelings were for the other man, how teasing it was to be touched by him all the time, how his insults fucking _burned_ him like the butt of his cigarette and how he wished Joel would just fucking hold him.

But he couldn't do that, so he nods as if that made perfect sense. “Oh, okay cool.” 

There seemed to be a moment of silence between them that stretched on for forever then Sonny shot up from his seat and squeaked out, 

“Can I make some tea?” Joel cocked his head to the side, brow furrowed quizzically.

“Since when do you drink _tea_?” 

Sonny shrugged, “You don’t know everything about me.” 

Before Joel could trap Sonny with another one of those gazes, the smaller man hurried to the kitchen, chest tight with rapid heart beats. 

“What kind do you want?” Sonny asks Joel from the other room, could hear his younger friend opening and closing cabinets in desperation of finding tea bags. 

“Bottom left, chai.” Sonny halted, looking back towards the living room for a second then followed Joel’s directions and sure enough, there they were. They sat collecting dust, next to the much more worn in coffee containers. 

He picked two bags out, one labeled ‘chai’, the other ‘green peach’ then picked up the teapot on the stove, filling it with water from the tap. 

“You _are_ filtering it, right?” Joel asks in a mocking tone. 

Sonny halted, “Oh shit.” He whispered under his breath, pouring out the water in the teapot quickly and switching the filter of the tap on. 

“Uh yep, yep! I am.” Joel laughs, the first sign of playfulness from him for the night and Sonny's shoulders softened ever slightly. 

Once the teapot was full of _filtered_ tap water Sonny put it on the stove and switched the flame on. The young musician tapped his foot awkwardly as he watched the fire licking up around the rim of the teapot. 

“So thanks for letting me over, it's rough being in the warehouse for too long, ya know.” Joel responds from the other room with a muffled voice, “Yeah man, that’s actually one thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh? What about it?”

He hears Joel cough and Sonny glances to the living room to see him adjusting his baseball cap. He does that when he’s fidgety. 

“Oh, that I want to get you signed onto Mau5trap now and have you moved to an actual livable place to work in.”

Sonny pokes his head around the frame of the kitchen door and asks in awe, “You wanna help get me a place _to live_?” 

“Yeah, like an actual studio, and bedroom and something that will be more homey than a decrepit building, like a legitimate goblin den.” Joel waves his hand, glancing back to Sonny but avoiding eye contact.

”But don’t go taking advantage of me, I’ll only support the initial deposit and moving shit, don’t expect me to be there if you fall short a month.” 

Sonny is astounded, he feels the space inside him that contains love for Joel swell, almost enough to forget about him ever being a jerk and all he can feel is giddiness and overwhelming gratitude. He goes back to watching the flame flicker, a big smile on his face. 

“Wow! That would be amazing man! Like I-I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much!” 

“Yeah, yeah, no sweat, now come back out here so I can talk to you better.” Joel calls, a little demandingly and Sonny stiffens in response, but says, “Alright.” and shuffles back over to the seat, tossing his hair in front of his face as he does when he would rather hide in a situation.

Joel has his legs crossed, foot bouncing to some unheard beat and he stares across the table to Sonny. 

“I’m proud of you, goblin.” Joel tells him and Sonny feels his face burn, like it always did when Joel complimented him.

“Oh man, thank you. You’re gonna make me blush, hah.”  
Joel smirks and says, “You _are_ blushing, idiot.” 

Sonny is playing with his hair again, inner monologue telling him to just _chill out_ and _don’t think about Joel like that, he is just your friend. You’re just hanging out, there is nothing weird about this._

But _everything_ was weird about this. 

Joel wasn’t normally this complimenting of him either, unless he had enough booze, and Sonny doubts Joel would be drunk at 3:30 on a Tuesday.

Joel sighs long and hard, and Sonny had the feeling he badly wanted to communicate something to him but didn’t know how. Normally Joel was so brutally up front, but now he seemed anxious and tongue tied.

Joel makes a strange grunt, and puts his face into his hands in a pained expression. Sonny watches him curiously, wondering what possibly was troubling him. 

“You okay man? Headache?” Sonny knew where the aspirin was in his bathroom and offered to get it, starting to rise up from the couch when Joel dropped his hands and opened his mouth.  
“No!” He shouted and Sonny instinctively dropped back down to his seat. He hated how quickly he agreed to obey Joel.

“Wait-just- just wait-“

Joel took a very deep breath then, Sonny watching as his lips part with promise of a sentence. He could feel the melancholy within his words as he starts to speak.

“It’s really hard to portray what I have been feeling.” Sonny’s brow furrows in concern, he knew that Joel has struggled with pretty severe depression in the past, even though he had refused professional help, his emotions, the inner turmoil was still very much valid. 

It worried Sonny, he knew exactly how that could feel and anytime it seemed that Joel was in a rut Sonny tried his very hardest to remind Joel that he was there for him.

Even though there were so many walls put up by Joel, even when it was so exhausting, not having your love and support received by someone who so desperately needed it, Sonny was still there to give it at the drop of a hat.

Joel groaned in an aggravated way. He rubbed at his throat almost like what he wanted to say was trapped there. 

“I need some fucking alcohol.” He decides and rises up from his sitting position to walk into the kitchen.  
Now Sonny was the one awkwardly sitting in the living room while the other was retrieving something from the cabinets. 

Joel returns with whiskey in one hand and vodka in the other.

Sonny raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Joel. It's the afternoon.” He looks incredulously at the choice of hard liquor the man had brought. 

“And?” He responds flatly. “Warms me up and eases my mind.” 

Joel pours some of each into a glass. “Have some.” 

A demand more than a question and Sonny felt obligated. 

So much for not being drunk on a Tuesday afternoon. 

But Joel was right. The drinks helped, he felt tingly and warm and more at ease within a few minutes of gulping down the foul liquids.

Joel burps. “So I wan’a tell you Sonny-“ 

“Hm?” Things are swimming gently as Sonny attempts to make eye contact with his friend.

“About, uh, about this tour you’re going on—“

In Sonny’s hazy already drunken mind he tries to think about which tour exactly Joel was referring to. 

“Oh, the one with Anton, yeah?” And Joel nods as he’s pouring him another drink. “Yeah, where is it at again?” 

Sonny reaches out for the liquor, a small voice in his head told him he _most definitely did not need more,_ and also wondered why Joel didn't seem to be drinking as much as him?

“Um, it’s all across North America and somewhat up into Canada.” Joel grins widely at the mention of his home state. “You should come stay with me if it’s in Toronto man!”

Sonny laughs, tossing back his glass for the 6th shot that afternoon. “Y-yeah okay!” 

There was an awkward span of sudden silence as Meowingtons walks across the carpet between them. Both of the men fix their gaze to the cat and Sonny says rather quietly, “Dang he really _is_ gettin’ fat, isn’t he?” 

Joel bursts into loud laughter, throwing back his head animatedly. 

“You’re telling _me_! I’m honest to god worried for his health!” 

They both laugh, and it feels like the first time they had ever met. 

Joel flashes a genuine smile to Sonny, making his heart burn. 

“So anything else...on your mind?” Sonny tries, wanting to gently pry open Joel’s brain so he would feel safe enough to tell him whatever the fuck was on his mind, because there was _definitely_ something. 

Joel is squinting his face again agonizingly and takes a long hard drink of whiskey before replying.

“Yeah, um, _you_.”

Sonny chokes on his drink, tilts his head, not sure he heard his response quite right. “What was that?” 

“ _You_ are, idiot.” 

And Sonny still doesn’t understand fully.

“O-oh..? I’m-..? _What_? Why?” Joel laughs at his garbled attempts at forming a sentence.

Sonny feels he doesn’t understand the joke, if there was one.

“ _Goddamit_ dude.” Joel goes silent now, staring blankly against a wall of the apartment and clicks his tongue. 

“You know, you’re making this _really_ hard.” Sonny shifts in his seat, swirling his amber drink around in his cup anxiously, not catching on to what was happening right now.

He hated feeling like he didn’t understand something, it made him feel useless. 

“Make wh-what hard?” He is wanting to give Joel a safety net, something to remind him that Sonny would listen, if he chose to talk. 

But of all the answers Joel could have given him, this one turns his attempted safety net inside out.

“I _like you_ Sonny, don’t you fucking get it? I’ve liked you since the day I saw you playing at that club in North Hollywood.” 

Joel’s voice cracked but it didn’t falter as he continued to speak.

“I like your energy and I like your messy hair and your eyes and your stupid smile-”

It seemed like Joel let the damn of his thoughts finally break and from his lips rushed words came tumbling out faster than he could even speak, like a roar of water that Sonny was now fearing he would drown under.

“You make me feel alive, you make me feel 16 again, you inspire me to work harder, to create, to never grow old. You make my heart race and my head spin and-and-”

Joel looked flustered, eyes wide and red, cheeks pink, looking like his mouth was trying to catch up to his brain, but everything had sounded sincere as possibly could be. 

He avoided Sonny’s gaze for the time being, lips connecting with the rim of his cup again as Sonny himself just stared slack jawed at the floor, a roaring current in his head.

The water was boiling. The water was boiling but Sonny didn’t realize it.

  
  


_now our love starts to burn like the night poet's candle_

  
  


Joel meets Sonny’s gaze steadily, eyes glassy pools of brown, distant and walled in once again, he leans his chin on his palm expectantly, as if Sonny would actually be able to fucking respond to him right now.

Sonny felt numb head to toe, the sensation reminded him a little like how it had felt to admit he loved his first boyfriend, and how he had said he loved him back. 

It was a strange rushed mix of thoughts like:

_“Holy shit this is terrifying, I don’t know what is going to happen now”_

And 

_“Oh my god he likes me too!”_

“Are _you_ going to go get that or do I have to?” Joel barked, referring to the tea kettle, and startling Sonny from his state of disassociation. 

“Oh-I-I, uh-” he blinks dumbly and Joel sighs, pushing himself off from the leather chair, feet dragging as he made his way to the kitchen again.

Sonny stares into space, listening to Joel pouring water in the other room. 

_Was this actually happening?_

_If so then what the fuck do I do? How do I approach this? How do I not fuck all of this up?_

Joel had come back into the living room now, leaning over to hand Sonny a mug, his face close to Sonny’s own, his eyes unreadable. Always _so_ unreadable.

As Joel sits back down, Sonny’s mouth felt so dry, where had all his saliva run off to? 

He tried to drink his tea, failing to remember it was boiling hot, Sonny chokes on it as it scorched his tongue, his thoughts burning his brain just the same. 

“W-well _of course_ I like you back, man!” 

He pauses, trying to sort through his feelings and his rapid thoughts that fired across his train of thought like a space invaders arcade game.

His heart was so jaded and scarred from being torn to shreds so many times, how could he possibly open it up to Joel? 

He wanted to. He wanted to trust in someone again so badly. He missed that safe feeling. 

Joel looks to him with narrowed eyes, and Jesus now he looked _angry._

“Stop playing _dumb_ with me goblin, we both know what has been going on between the two of us.”

Sonny ignores how his finger pads are burning against the ceramic of his mug, he was almost too scared to move as Joel continues.

“I didn’t want to think about it too much, you know feelings are... _f_ _ucking_ hard for me, but fuck... I-I...” 

Joel is breathing shallowly, gaze downcast and rubbing his hand across his face roughly again to leave it white. He was really struggling with words and Sonny felt badly for him.

“I just can’t get you from my mind, especially after last week."

Joel doesn't say it but Sonny knows he is referring to the kiss.

"I feel this fucking _burning_ thing in my chest that tells me that I care for you more than I should. I felt so fucking horrible after what I had said to you last Tuesday and it made me realize that I really have to be a better, more aware person. You remind me to be more optimistic and kinder and...I don’t know, I’m not sure what the fuck to do about all of this man, but I had to get this out of my head.” He swallows.

”I know you aren’t straight, at least I _really_ fucking don’t think you are, but _fuck_ I thought I was straight up until I met you." Exhaling with a, "God dammit.” Joel removes his baseball cap, frantically rubbing his hand against his short buzzed hair. 

He takes a moment to breathe before continuing again. 

“I’ve always just been into the classic blonde with big tits and ass. Its fuckin' nuts to me that I would be into you, like at all, besides the fact you kinda look like a chick...” 

That comment may have offended Sonny in another situation but Joel doesn’t leave him time to process it very deeply. 

Everything was go, go, go. 

Now, now, now. _Joel, Joel, Joel._

"But it's like meeting you just reminded me that feeling for someone doesn't always have to be about how hot they are.”

Joel looks at him expectantly, almost looking like he was going to begin crying, but Sonny is still lost in translation.

“ _Say something_ , dammit!” and he jumps from Joel’s sudden loud voice.  
  
Sonny sets his tea mug down gingerly against the glass with a _clink_ and his tenderly burnt hands thank him for the relief. 

Here Joel was showing the most vulnerable emotion he’d seen since, well, since they had met, and Sonny had no clue how the hell to go about this right.

“I...” He swallows hard to try and help his tongue form words. 

“Joel I...” Sonny looks back to the windows as he speaks, watching the smoggy clouds of downtown LA drift by. 

“You, uh, are on my mind a lot and your opinions and support mean so much to me, _truly_...” 

He maps out his words carefully in his booze soaked brain. 

“I have looked up to you for a long time and it’s awesome to be such close friends. I’m just...I’m scared, I haven’t been with anyone in a while and, and things still hurt...” 

He clears his throat and bites onto his thumb nervously. 

“I-I have a past of...um, some bad things happening to me with sex…” 

Sonny can see Joel stiffen himself slightly in his chair from his peripheral view. 

“Uh, the last time was really recent actually. A really cute guy at this show last September who offered to drive me home.” 

Sonny swallows thickly, unpleasant memories flashed in his mind.

“Got me super drunk and ended up, um, f-fucking me in the back of his truck ‘till I blacked out.” 

Sonny takes another swig of whiskey, it burns just as much as the tea. 

“D-Don’t really remember much else except waking up in a hotel room. No idea who brought me there, maybe he had, but I was glad that’s all that seemed to have happened. Could have been worse...a lot worse.” 

Sonny shudders, feeling sick to his stomach at the body memory he still stored inside him.

Just then Joel stands up abruptly to come sit beside Sonny on the couch, making him even more anxiously sick to his stomach. 

Joel looks to the carpet as he opens his mouth to talk, leg still bouncing like a metronome.

“I care for you a lot, Sonny. I don’t want to hurt you, if you don’t want this, that’s fine, I just need to try this out, I have to for my own peace of mind or else I will go fucking nuts.” 

Joel looks up from under the brim of his baseball cap, his pale flesh uncharacteristically blushed red. 

Sonny’s breath hitches in his throat, Joel was very close to him now. 

He smelled like nicotine and coffee.

“T-try what out?” 

Sonny subconsciously understands what he means but he wants to clarify in case his crazy head is elaborating the situation more than necessary. 

Joel responds by leaning into Sonny, his eyes are dark, driven, demanding, they dart to his mouth. 

Sonny succumbs easily to their treacherous depths, it came as second nature to let Joel be in control, and Sonny kind of hated himself for giving up that power so easily with him.

Joel presses a kiss to his lips and it’s awkward and rough, like the first drunken kiss, but much longer, Joel’s mouth unmoving against his. 

Joel draws away before Sonny has much time to think. 

“Uh...how was that time?” 

Sonny laughs breathily, Joel’s awkwardness cutting the tension just a bit.

“I mean, _honestly_ , I’ve had better kisses at 14...”

He attempts a playful smile at Joel and the other man rolls his eyes. 

“Okay, well I’ve never done this before so I’m not sure how to properly go about it.”

Sonny raises an eyebrow quizzically.

“You’ve never kissed someone?” 

Sonny knew that was false, he had watched Joel plenty of times with his arms draped around drunk chicks, planting messy kisses on their necks and mouths while jealousy brewed in Sonny’s belly. 

“No, _stupid_ , been with a...with a _man_ ” he stumbles over the last syllables. 

Sonny grins, stifling a laugh, amused by how flustered all of this made Joel, it wasn’t often he got to see him like this and man was this a good opportunity to tease him hard. Sonny manages to find some sudden courage.

“Ohhhhh, I see, Mr. ‘getting laid every weekend with a playboy bunny’ is new to this arena, huh?” 

Joel laughs and shakes his head. “Whatever man…” he looks into Sonny’s eyes more seriously and asks him, “So you have…?” 

Joel is absentmindedly playing with the stitching in his jeans, Sonny watches his stubbed nails pull at the strings.

“Been with a guy? Oh yeah, yeah. My mom caught me with this friend I had been playing music with when I was like 13, we both had our shirts off and our hands on each other’s dicks.” 

Joel flushes abashedly and Sonny has to laugh again. 

“She walked into the garage and we both tried to hide behind our guitars but it was too late. My mom wasn’t mad or anything, she sent my friend home and talked to me. She asked me if I was gay and I said I didn’t know since I liked girls too, had made out with girls before. She said that she was okay with however my feelings were, she accepted me. It was all good. Most kids aren't that lucky.”

Joel is watching Sonny’s mouth as he speaks, seemingly losing interest in his story the more he tells it.

He blinks sluggishly and licks his lips to mumble, “Wanna try again.” And does. 

As Joel’s lips press to his again, Sonny can feel less hesitation, Joel is more sure of himself this time and Sonny decides to tentatively reach out a hand to run his fingers down Joel’s arm, wanting to encourage him. "Much better." He gasps into it.

He can remember the first times he kissed a boy, what a thrill and fear it had been.

He hears Joel sigh into the kiss, as if that gave him enough of reassurance that this _was_ okay, that Joel’s _feelings_ were okay. Joel decides to open his mouth and experimentally slide a warm tongue against the other mans lips. Sonny shudders in surprise but hums appreciatively, opening his own mouth to him and feeling warmth rush down into his lower half.

_Fuck this was really happening._

His heart races faster as Joel brings a hand up to run through Sonny’s unkempt hair. He briefly thinks how he should have brushed it this morning. Hopes it smells okay. 

Sonny’s small short fingers grip gently against Joel’s bicep, holding on in desperation as the kissing became more heated. 

Joel licks into Sonny’s invitingly open mouth, sucks on his lip, teeth closing around his piercing studs to pull gently. 

Sonny groans into this, Joel’s hand travels down his back and gropes at his hip. “Fuck.” Joel breaths out, taking a moment away from kissing him. “Hm?” Sonny hums. 

“You’re so-“ Joel flicks his tongue against Sonny’s lips again, “-fucking sexy.” 

As if Sonny wasn’t already blushing enough, he bumps his nose against Joel’s and asks with wide eyes, “You really think so?” 

They make eye contact, stopping their kissing for a moment again. “Yes.” Joel blinks to him. 

“Your body” his hands squeeze at Sonny’s waist firmly. “Is so great.” 

He runs the back of his hand gently against Sonny’s cheek. “Your face is really cute and your eyes are so beautiful.” 

Sonny feels warm and gooey, he is pretty sure his face is 300 different shades of red as he utterly melts into the rush of attention from Joel. He didn’t know he could be so complimenting, and Sonny forgot how fucking nice it felt to receive such words he never tells himself.

This all felt so foreign, he hadn’t been caressed or talked to like this in years and it made his head spin like a vinyl record that kept skipping grooves.

Sonny smiles and pushes up his glasses awkwardly, hair falling into his face as he looks down between them. “That uh-that means a lot.” 

Joel tilts Sonny’s face back up to his own and presses another kiss to him, his teeth clash against the other man’s and Sonny stifles a whimper as his lip burns where his teeth press into it.

Suddenly Joel pulls off him and rises up, Sonny’s hand in his. “Where-?” He begins to ask, Joel simply tugs and says under his breath. 

“Bedroom.”

_Oh. **Oh.**_

He blindly follows Joel through the hallway, like a drunken fever dream, disregarding the fact that it was still broad daylight and who fucks in broad daylight? 

They do apparently. 

_eclipse the painful space between our lust driven bodies_

_with our hearts pressed together_

_this is making love_

_this is making melody_

  
  


The two of them come crashing down onto Joel’s fluffy sheets. 

The bed was so soft, Sonny would have loved to just fall asleep in it right then if it weren’t for the fact that Joel has him pulled down on top of him, one hand cradling the back of his head as he kisses him, other hand stroking up and down his leg. 

Sonny was _very_ much awake right now.

Joel’s hand travels down to Sonny’s behind and he feels Joel squeeze at his ass, moaning in excitement. 

“Hmm, do you-do you like my butt?” Sonny breaks away from the kiss to ask teasingly, becoming a little more daring with himself as they continued, feeling his inner promiscuity bubbling up like a fountain that he normally kept corked up. 

“Fuck yes.” Joel growls against his lips and Sonny is really getting off on how much Joel _is_ seemingly into him. 

Joel grinds his hips up, Sonny could feel his erection through his jeans. 

He gasps, Joel sucks Sonny’s tongue into his mouth and everything is so much, _too much_. 

He doesn’t remember the last time he felt this stimulated. 

His inner tiger is roaring like a fire.

“Fuck.” Joel hisses.

Teeth. Friction. Warmth.

Heart pounding like a bass line.

Sonny’s brain is processing a million different signals at once, one pathway that yelps:

_This is amazing, I’m so turned on holy fuck. This feels so incredible. I’ve wanted this for so long_ , 

And another that is screaming:

 _Oh my god, this changes everything, slow down, this could end up like times before._ _Don’t put yourself in danger, stop stop stop._

They are grinding into one another, Sonny on top of Joel, pressing him down into the mattress.

Joel knocks Sonny's glasses off carelessly and Sonny doesn't really have the brain power to mind very much.

He draws back to look at his friend, searching his eyes for a moment of stillness and affirmation, still not sure if Joel was _actually_ wanting this like he claimed _._

Joel’s cap had been strewn over the side of the bed, his short hair was messy and his cheeks were flushed. 

Sonny stares.

“Wh-what..?” Joel quizzically raises an eyebrow. “What’s wrong Sonny?” Sonny shakes his head gently, biting his lip.

”N-nothing man-just...” 

But maybe something _was_ wrong? 

“I thought about this so much and it’s crazy for it to actually be happening.” 

That was half the truth.

Joel’s face cracks into a stupid grin, his eyes twinkling with a sparkle Sonny only rarely sees when he is talking about things he is passionate about. 

“You don’t even know goblin-“ 

Joel grabs Sonny’s arms rather roughly all of a sudden and Sonny yelps as he is hoisted upward, Joel easily lifting him and flipping him over so Sonny was now underneath him. 

“How fucking often I’ve thought about this.” 

Sonny feels his body freeze for a collective moment of fight or flight as he is grabbed, but he mentally urges himself to relax with Joel in control. 

His mind races with ideas of Joel previously thinking about kissing him, touching him, _getting off to him, oh god._

He can hardly believe he could be that desirable.

Joel traps Sonny’s arms above his own head, pressing his wrists into the bed sheets.

And just then something inside Sonny flashes heedlessly to a time at Warped Tour. 

An older man from one of the bands they were touring with had pinned Sonny up against a wall near the bathrooms, his arms were above his head, kept there by the strong man’s own, a knee was wedged between Sonny’s small legs and the dude was kissing at his neck. 

“I know you’ve been looking at me you little faggot.” He had growled against Sonny’s ears and Sonny trembled, a dizzying array of emotions coursing through him. He tried to look around for his own band mates, but they were off partying.

It was true he had been looking at this dude, wondered about what he would look like naked. But he didn’t have to imagine for long because the man had pushed Sonny down into a kneeling position and opened his zipper. “How old are you anyways, huh?” 

The band mate grunted, grabbing hard onto Sonny’s then shorter cropped hair to pull his face against his crotch. 

He was slightly drunk and so confused as to why he was hard if he hadn’t consented to this. 

Everything was so confusing when you were 15. 

He couldn’t remember much after then, it seemed like an old film that was burnt out in places so the picture quality was damaged and patchy. He does remember he began making himself throw up regularly after that.

But his Mom was right, the world could and would be cruel to a soft soul like him.

Sonny was currently confused as well, he was so fucking hard he was sure his dick was ripping a hole through his jeans but at the same time so sick with nerves he felt nearly ready to bolt to the restroom if he felt bile rise. 

He pulls himself back out of that terrible blotchy memory and reminds himself that he was _here_ with Joel, that he was okay, Joel was his friend, he could trust him. 

Sonny knew that he needed to feel security with Joel, needed to hear it from him, but didn’t know how to ask for that, didn’t feel confident enough to. 

How do you tell someone that you are unsure if you want to fuck without them feeling that you are rejecting them?

So he just grips onto Joel for dear life while they kiss and press into each other. He hopes the feeling will leave.

Joel looks at Sonny, seeming to get lost himself, his eyes scanned up and down his features, like a cat calculating when to pounce. 

Sonny isn’t ready for what he says next. 

“I love you.” 

Sonny inhales like he was punched in the gut. 

Now he _really_ might throw up. 

He looks at Joel blankly or a moment, trying it open his mouth to respond and then closing it again stupidly. 

He was a fish gasping for water.

Joel watches him expectantly, eyes drooping and unfocusing from booze.

Slowly his mouth frowns. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” 

He pulls away, off of Sonny, suddenly so cold and alone.

“I’m so sorry.” He’s stumbling backwards and he’s aiming to leave out the bedroom door. 

“Wait! Joel!” 

Sonny finds his voice and lunges off the bed, hands clawing at his friend’s shirt. 

Joel stops and looks down at his own feet. Sonny could see his face contorted in what Sonny thought was pain and maybe anger. Sonny sighed. 

“I’m s-sorry Joel…I want this. I _really_ want this. I just need some time. Can you be patient with me? Please?” 

Joel swallows and nods, “Yeah. Yeah I can try.” 

They make eye contact and Sonny attempts a comforting smile, hand coming to brush against his tattooed forearm. 

Joel huffs, avoiding eye contact, “You’re too fucking sweet, you little shit.” 

Sonny laughs, playfully smacking his arm he had touched. “Fuck you man.” 

“Hmm isn’t that what we were doing?” Joel turns to face him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, hands wrap around each of Sonny’s wrists and he pulls him closer to him. 

“Would you like to continue that?”

Sonny nods. 

Is he shaking? 

_Maybe_. 

“Y-yeah I would love to.”

_Maybe not._

The kissing begins again, hands in each other's hair and up and down the others backs and sides, Sonny is pressed up against the closet of the bedroom. The door shudders against their weight, soon they shuffle back to the bed.

When the older man started to pull up the hem of the shirt Sonny was wearing, his fingers snaking under the over sized fabric draped over his stomach, Sonny breaks away from the kiss, panic flooding through him like wildfire, a hand shoots down to pull his shirt back down instinctively. 

He was so used to trying to hide his body all the time, especially his stomach.

“N-no..” 

He whispers weakly. Joel’s eyebrows furrowed together, worry lighting the pupils of his eyes. 

Sonny stared back, jaw tight with anxiety. 

They spoke through their eyes again, Joel understanding that the subject of Sonny’s own body was very sensitive. 

But Sonny saw determination and maybe some frustration in the other man’s eyes. Joel really _really_ wanted this. And Sonny wanted to give him everything.

His mind waged wars.

_Give in to Joel, just give in. You want this so much. You want him to love you._

_You’re scared, stop, don’t let him do things you aren’t ready for yet._

He would have liked to listen to both sides of reason in his head but the alcohol seemed to want to entertain the first more.

Slowly Sonny’s hand released the hem of his shirt. Joel looked at him as if asking for his permission and with nothing but a bat of lashes, Sonny rather fretfully granted it to him. 

Joel lifted his shirt up to expose his torso and he looked down at his bare chest and belly.   
  


Sonny wasn’t used to sex being so exposing. Normally he would keep an article of clothing or two on, or simply would hide in the darkness of night time, or the blur of intoxication. He tried not to think about his body during sex.

Sonny shut his eyes so tightly he thought his head would explode, he didn’t want to see Joel’s expression, didn’t want to hear his groan of disgust at how revolting his body was. 

But instead came a coo from Joel’s mouth,

“You’re beautiful.” 

His fingers danced across Sonny’s stomach, so soft and light, over the white circles of cigarette burns littering his pasty flesh. 

Sonny releases the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and looks up to Joel. Joel’s hand traces through his stomach hair and down to his jeans, fingers hooking into his waist band. 

“I want these off. I want to see _more_ of you. _Now_.” 

Sonny inhaled surprisingly, but nodded, sitting up to unbutton himself. 

“Why do I have to be naked and you can keep your clothes on?” He questions.

Joel tisks. “I can get undressed if that makes you more comfortable.” He sheds his layers as Sonny takes off his own.

They were both totally nude now, the two men awkwardly looking at each other. 

_Jesus he’s hot,_ Sonny thought, _Joel Zimmerman is stark naked in front of me._

He felt insignificant next to how handsome Joel was. Lean body with sharp hip bones, gently toned muscles of his arms and legs that were colored with tattoos.

He glances down at his own stomach and legs, so squishy and soft, little to no definition in his muscles. He feels his mouth dry out from nerves. 

He looked so big and wide compared to Joel. 

Sonny held his thighs together, his hair spilled down the front of his face and he pulls at his piercings with his teeth.

“Stop that.” Joel said barely above a whisper and came scooting closer to him on the bed. His hands found Sonny’s hands and held them gently. 

“What?” Sonny wasn’t aware he was doing _anything_. “Stop hiding yourself.” Joel tilts Sonny’s face up to meet his eyes and he looks at him sternly, “You don’t need to hide from me.” 

Sonny huffs defiantly, wanting to pull away from Joel’s touch, but allows him to keep his chin there. 

“It’s such a habit.”

So much so that it’s become second nature. 

“I know.” Joel whispers against his lips as he kisses him softly again. 

Joel’s hand snakes down his chest as he presses into Sonny and he rubs around his hipbones, then a little lower. Joel spreads Sonny’s legs apart, thumbs grazing against his thighs. 

He breaks away from the kiss suddenly with an “Mhmm?” sound and looks down as his hands pass over something textured on his otherwise butter soft skin.

Sonny had forgotten. 

He had forgotten about the scars. He tried to forget. He didn’t look much at his own body anymore, unless he wanted to start to spiral. 

He brought his knees closer to his chest, away from Joel’s touching, pressing his legs together again, he curls up into a ball and avoids Joel’s eyes. 

God, Joel probably thought he was so gross and fucked up. All the people he had been with and who had seen his inner legs had either asked a hundred questions, been freaked out and turned off, or, like one guy, said he was a, “ _Special_ kind of kinky fuck.” 

As if him cutting into his own inner thighs for punishment was any sort of pleasure for him.

“Sonny, look at me.” Sonny reluctantly did.

“I won’t judge you, no matter what. Please just relax.” 

He wants to. He wants to so much. 

Tentatively the younger man uncurls himself again and looks up towards his mentor. He blinks back tears, overwhelmed from the emotions of being so vulnerable with someone and the feeling of the booze coursing through him. 

Joel’s fingers grazed along the thick indentations of Sonny’s inner and outer thighs. The scars were dark pink, the skin warped slightly from being slashed at and burned repeatedly. 

Joel didn’t ask why they were there, he didn’t say, “I’m sorry.” like what he may have expected, he didn’t even blink. He just caressed them. 

Sonny doesn’t remember ever feeling so loved, so wanted and accepted in his whole entire life. 

He let out a shuddering breath of relief and with it, he relaxed more. 

_This will be okay. Joel loves me, he said so._

_He isn’t going to be like the others._

Sonny fights that voice in his brain that is screaming that he will be hurt. 

He spreads his legs a little wider under the gentle touch. Joel’s eyes are on his cock. 

_Oh._

Sonny remembers that this was about sex. 

_He really wants to touch me._

Sonny groans arousedly as he realizes this and pushes his hips upward towards Joel as an invitation. Joel glances up to him. 

“Can I..-?”

“Yeah.”

Sonny gasps the answer as Joel rubs a thumb up his length. He’s leaking and he realizes just how excited he’s been this entire time, even with all the anxiety he felt. 

Joel is stroking him now, Sonny a writhing mess on the bed sheets, having to lay back because the spinning of the room was too much.  
There was heat at his stomach and Sonny attempts to raise his head but _oh god_ Joel was slipping him into his mouth now and Sonny doesn't know how long he is going to be able to last for him.

He definitely hadn’t done this before, Joel was sloppy and fumbled to fit Sonny’s thickness into his mouth but Sonny crooned like a fucking whore, body on fire for desire to be touched.

Sonny digs his short nails into the back of Joel’s scalp, asking with labored breath for him to do more, more, deeper, _please._

But the heat and wetness is soon gone, leaving him shaking with lust, Joel had paused to reach for the dresser near the bed.

“What’s-“ Sonny starts to ask anxiously as Joel moves away, Sonny thinking that maybe he had changed his mind, but the other turns around with a rather stupid grin, holding a packet of lube and a condom in each hand. 

_Fuck here we go._

Things were kind of a blur, and maybe it was the whiskey and vodka, or maybe thats just how Sonny’s mind worked with sex. 

An old film camera trying to capture footage but only recording the bare minimum of shaky quality and distorted audio. 

It kind of sucked when he really wanted to remember the good details.

Joel pushes Sonny down into the mattress and Sonny lets himself sink into a state of submission that he was accustomed to with sex. He was used to being used.

Joel’s fingers are cold and the lube even colder against his warm entrance. 

Sonny hisses as Joel slides into him without much prepping, biting his cheek a little harder than he would have liked and he tastes copper. 

“Okay?” Joel whispers out against his ear and Sonny doesn’t really have any choice but to nod and hum against pillows, he was in no place to object or ask, 

“Wait, actually let’s slow down.” 

That would be lame. 

And he needed this more than he cared to admit.

He was so used to spacing out when being fucked, normally he didn't want to think about his own form or what the other person would do in the after math, the fact that this person may leave him soon after they came, discard him like trash

It was all too familiar for him. 

Even though sex felt good, it also felt unreal, unfathomable, unreachable, like Sonny was only ever allowed to scratch the very surface of it and not dive deep into its waters, for that would mean becoming too involved, too emotional, too aware, and God only knows what happens then.

Sonny tries desperately to stay in the present moment though, he wants to for his first time with Joel.

_First time. Will there be a second time?_

He doesn’t want to think sad thoughts right now. Instead he focuses on Joel breathing heavilyy above him, his lanky damp chest pressed against Sonny’s own.

Joel is kissing his neck, it’s been so long since he has been given intimacy like this, Sonny doesn’t expect it but he starts to cry, feeling wet warm tears dribble down his face. 

Joel draws away, slowing his movements.

“Hey, woah, you okay?” He’s cupping the side of Sonny’s face and dragging his thumb across the scarred skin of his cheek. 

It’s caring and gentle and _too much_.

Sonny hiccups and brings a shakey hand up to his face, attempting to wipe away tears. 

_Stupid crybaby_.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine, I’m sorry man.” He laughs croakily.

“It’s okay. I know this is the first time in a while since, well...you know.” 

Sonny nods and closes his eyes, ashamed at how emotional he was sober or not. 

“Are you ready now?” Joel asks him, almost urgently.

And Sonny’s tongue wants to say no, he would rather just be held and pet for a long moment, but his mind betrays him as it so often does and he responds with a:

“Yeah.”

Joel pushed into him without hesitation and Sonny whimpers in surprise. 

His memory flashes to being in the back seat of that man’s car, drunk out of his mind, it felt similar as Joel pressed into him, Sonny is shaking and he isn’t sure if it’s excitement or fear. 

He doesn't feel he is able to make eye contact with Joel, was that even still Joel?

Sonny wasn’t sure anymore. 

Everything was too unbearable, too contradictory within his skull, so he decides to focus on how bright Joel's tattoo on his neck was and then his eyes shift to the white ceiling of the apartment, bouncing up and down in his vision. 

Joel grabs at Sonny’s hair, pulling roughly and Sonny moans brokenly, cock throbbing in response as he trying to decipher whether this actually felt consensual or not.

Was he supposed to feel this anxious? 

Was he supposed to keep doubting this? 

His stomach felt in knots. 

Maybe it was just from his history?

Yeah, that’s what it was, just PTSD. 

He wanted this for so long, he _needed_ this, Sonny tells himself fervently. 

He urged to belong to Joel so badly, even if just for a night while they were both drunk. 

It felt so good. 

And it felt so bad.

“So pretty, such a pretty boy.”

Sonny was then thrown sharply into another disjointed memory, the third that night, this, an even older one.

He doesn’t remember where he was, but his uncle had him on his lap, squeezing hard at his hips.

“Pretty boy.” He kept whispering hotly against his neck, he reeked like cigarettes and beer. 

Joel smelled the same.

“Pretty boy.” 

He wasn’t sure if that was his memory, or Joel’s voice against his ear now.

Sonny starts to cry again and this time he doesn’t know if Joel sees or if he even cares as he pounds into him roughly.

He turns his head to the side to hide his face under his half mess of black hair. 

He didn’t deserve unfiltered kindness and vulnerability. Was he even capable of it?

Joel’s nails dig into him and Sonny thinks _yes that is what I deserve. Pain._

Even in this moment, Sonny was trying so desperately not to be indisposed. 

And yet, he felt himself breaking under Joel. He didn’t stand a chance, so he bites his lip as he tastes warm salt trickle down his chin and into his mouth.

Joel finishes in him, warm and panting against the curve of his back, he rolls off and throws away the condom. 

Sonny is embarrassingly hard still and unsure what to do with himself. 

Choking down his sobs own, he tries to pull himself back down to earth, instead of being on the ceiling as an onlooker.

Joel was talking to him, he realizes and he sniffs, rubbing at his nose as he tries to make eye contact and become coherent once again. 

“Did you hear me, man? I want to see you come too.” Sonny just hums, nodding and spreading his legs obediently.

He belongs to Joel right now, he’s wanted to belong to him for some time, isn’t this what he wanted?

Joel shifts closer, pulling him over onto his stomach, ass up in the air as he grips at Sonny’s cock, tugging and grazing a thumb against it’s head.

Slender fingers slide back into his used entrance and he moans automatically.

“Did that feel nice, while I fucked you? I saw you crying again, figured it was a lot for you, but I hope it felt good. It did for me. God it did for me.”

Joel is breathing hard again, placing kisses to his lower back and hips. Sonny shivers. He’s cold and wants his thermal back on.

“You’re so good Sonny. You’re _so_ fucking good.”

Those words feel even better than Joel’s hands.

“God, I want to see you jizz all over my sheets, feel you tighten around me.” 

There’s a slap against his ass and Sonny gasps in shock, his cock responding with a twitch.

He hates himself right now. 

He wishes he could stop hating himself so much.

It feels so good and he doesn’t deserve any of it.

He’s shaking into an orgasm within moments, a strangled wail clawing itself out of his throat like thorns. The relief of orgasm feels like it tears a piece of his soul out of him, a relinquish of torture that Sonny searches for daily.

Joel is grunting above him and Sonny is somewhat aware of his movements beside his hip that indicate him getting himself off again. 

“So good. S-such good boy. Fuck, _fuck_ yes.” He feels more warm release against his ass, and it’s dripping down his thighs now, he feels dirty and exhausted like a used whore.  
Maybe he liked it.

Sonny croons, slumping against the bed as Joel pulls out of him once more, wiping his fingers on the sheets beside him. 

He mumbles something like, “Gotta clean these tomorrow.” And rises away from the bed. 

Sonny glances up to blurrily see he is pulling on his shirt and some boxers. 

He tosses Sonny his own clothes, “Here you go.” He says. “Thought you might be cold now.” 

And he wasn’t wrong.

Sonny shivers again as he pulls his top onto his person, hoping he will warm up again soon.

He’s still trying to find traction for thought, steady his own breaths and reeling thoughts.

Joel’s face was pink, his lips upturned at the corners of his mouth, it had been a while since Sonny had seen him smiling so much, he makes little hums.

He sits back down onto the bed, stretching and reaching his arms out to curl around Sonny’s waist. He never would have expected Joel to be a post-sex cuddler but he appreciates it, instantly pressing into him.

Sonny clutches at Joel’s shirt, savoring the moment of having his warm body pressed against his own.

Joel kissed the top of Sonny’s head lightly. 

“That was so good.” Is all Joel says and Sonny hums a forced agreement. He wants to mention the panic, wants to speak up for himself, but disregards this. It didn't matter really anyway, they both got what they wanted in the end, right?

Was this going to be a regular thing now? God Sonny hoped, he wanted that so much. 

Joel caressed the valley along his spine, fingers pressing into the soft tissue around his hips and lower back. 

Sonny’s nose was squished into Joel’s t shirt, it smelled like laundry detergent and a hint of cigarettes. He exhales and tries to ignore the unease in his stomach still. 

“Love you.” Joel says and pulls him into a crushing hug. Sonny happily lets himself be smothered into the other’s warmth.

Being held was one of Sonny’s favorite things, other than seeing the night sky.

Joel’s hands are in his hair again, petting and he’s pressing kisses to his head just like Sonny had always imagined. His heart was racing and Sonny dug his fingers into Joel’s ribs. This barely felt real.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you.”

He was important, _he was loved._

There was the taste of salt again. But this time Joel really was holding him when he needed it most.

“You are so wonderful and beautiful.”

The words that he wanted for so long are like daggers that he could hardly even accept.

"You're going to do so many incredible things little goblin, I just know it. I'm so proud of you."

Sonny wraps his legs around Joel’s, tangling their limbs together like intertwined vines.

_Closer, warmer, safer._

He never wanted this to end. This was how he always wanted to feel.

“I love you too. Thank you.” Sonny says finally in a dry wrecked voice. It was all he could manage to reassure Joel that he needed him so much. That he loved him so much.

Usually Sonny would be up all night on a week day, on his computer working on music, talking to random people on Myspace, or just thinking. But not tonight, Tonight he could sleep. 

Tonight he was safe against the contour of Joel’s chest.

  
  


_and then i wake up, and you and i were never in love_

  
  


It was light out now. 

The LA sun scorched through the thin white curtains lining the windows of Joel’s California loft. 

But that wasn’t what had woken Sonny, he could sleep all day if he wanted, he had done it plenty of times. Meowingtons was crying that’s what tore the small man from his slumber. Making mewing sounds like he needed to piss his tail off and there wasn’t a litter box in the other fucking room.

“Wh-what do you want dude?” Sonny slurred, half asleep and wiggling over so he could hang off the side of the bed to reach a hand out to the cat.

The only time the cat would be meowing this way was if he hasn’t been fed, Sonny had been over here enough to know that. 

“Where’s Joel?” Suddenly Sonny remembered everything from the prior night, granted it played back in his mind rather fuzzily.

He smiled a bit and turned to look to the other side of the bed, Joel was no where to be seen. Sonny found that odd since he usually slept in late as well, especially if he had a hangover.

The young man sat up in the bed and yawned, scratching the side of his head that was shaved. 

He turned to where his glasses had been set on the counter last night, placing them on the bridge of his nose as he stood up and looked around.

Sauntering around the house, Sonny calls for Joel. “Hey man, you got stuff for a hangover? I think Meowingtons wants food too!” Poking a head into every room he could. “Joel? The fuck are you dog?”

Then he saw the paper on the coffee table. 

Had that been there last night? No Sonny had deliberately remembered the coffee table being spotless except for the playboy magazines. 

He walked over to it and read it’s scribbled writing.

**Sonny,**

**I’ve left, I’m going on a 9 month tour starting tomorrow morning.**

**You won’t be seeing me again for a while. I’m sorry for what happened last night, it was completely uncalled for and wrong.**

**I’m not gay.**

**I lied when I said I loved you.**

**We can never do that ever again, do you understand me?**

**I’ve just been confused and I guess I just needed a good fuck to figure things out.**

**Make yourself some breakfast and then please leave my house and don't come back.**

**You can find eggs in the fridge. I also left dollars for you to take a cab somewhere.**

**Bye, Joel**

It was as if something had suddenly been broken inside of Sonny and there were a million razor sharp shards of glass splintering throughout his entire vessel.

_What?_

He couldn't breath, it was like feeling when you first dove into water and didn't know how long you could hold your breath. His lungs stung.

Sonny's eyes unfocused to the point where he couldn’t even see his own hands shaking as he held the paper tightly. 

His mind swam with incoherent, angry thoughts that flashed like a police car.

Make yourself some _breakfast_ ? How the _fuck_ could he eat right now? 

Sonny screamed out, a strangled wail that tore from his diaphragm and filled the entire apartment. 

He ripped the paper in two, crumpling it’s worthless pieces and throwing them onto the carpet. 

_Worthless_. _Just like him._

He looked at the two tea mugs set on the coffee table near where the note had been, still full and left abandoned by their owners last night. Sonny picked them both up and hurled them at the living room wall, shattering with a _crash_ to spill out tea all over Joel’s wallpaper.

He ran through the living room, tears starting to stream down his cheeks. Sonny made it to the bedroom and threw himself back onto Joel’s bed. He howled, knuckles turning white as he gripped onto his friend’s pillow. He breathed in deeply, nostrils filling with the smell of nicotine and coffee and laundry detergent. The smell of Joel.

_Bring him back. Bring him back. Bring him back._

Sonny’s heart ached, he didn’t want to think too much right now. 

So he closes his eyes and pretends.

  
  


_i slip back to slumber and appear on a comet_

_and your eyes had conviction and you were singing so loud_

  
  


Sonny suffocates himself into the pillow. 

He was still here. Joel was still here.

Laying next to the him. He was stroking Sonny’s hair out of his face, telling him that he was beautiful. 

“You awake goblin?” the small man looks up blinking sleep from his eyes, giggles and tugs on his stud in his lip with his own tongue. 

“What’d ya think stupid? I sleep with my eyes open?” 

Joel chuckles, “I dunno you are pretty strange.” 

Sonny ‘pft’ed and rolled his eyes. “Wanna go to eat?” Joel asked as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “There is a good diner right down the street. We could get some pancakes or somethin’.” Sonny smiles. “Only if they serve it with a smiley face on it.”

Joel laughs and shakes his head, laughing. “Hey waiter, can you make mine mouse shaped? His needs to be a big gay heart.” 

He laughs along with Joel.

Maybe he would show Sonny some studio work later. Maybe they could kiss too.

  
  


_you were painting with an ice brush onto the heaven’s red canvas_

_and burn a hole through the universe with your fire_

  
  


Sonny wept into the sheets forlornly, staining the blue fabric a morbid dark black. 

His hands shook. His whole body shook. His heart shook. His head was pounding. His throat was raw from yelling so much all of a sudden.

He wanted to disappear.

He wanted to die. He wanted to _fucking_ die.

To forget that he had just been broken again. For the millionth fucking time in his life. 

His body had been desecrated. Violated. 

He felt vulgar and disgusting just like after every sexual encounter.

He was just like everyone else. Sonny trusted him and Joel was _just like everyone else._

All anyone ever wanted from him was to take and exploit his kindness. Joel wasn’t any different in the end.

Feeling his stomach churn and throat tighten, Sonny makes a heaving sound, launching himself from the bed, but he doesn’t quiet make it to the bathroom, instead emptying his stomach contents onto Joel’s carpeted bedroom.

 _It’s what he deserves_ , Sonny thinks.

He hopes it stains there forever.

He turns back around towards the bed, body wracked with sobs as he curls in on himself in a fetal position, writhing around in the sheets.

This is the feeling that burned and tore at every fibre of his being, threatening to break his skin apart like a flood of lava.

This feeling was like home by now.

“W-why the fuck would Joel ever love me?!”

He’s screaming aloud now, mind no longer capable of containing it’s dialogue.

“Fucking idiot I am for thinking he would! You stupid fucking idiot!”

Time slipped in and out of coherence. Sonny wasn’t sure how long he clawed at his own tangled hair, beating his fists against the comforter and screamed. It didn’t matter anyway.

Breathing was hard, a throbbing in his temples that felt like fucking gun shots with each sharp inhale.

“Stupid, weak idiot...”

His voice trailed off, finally breaking under the emotion draining out of his body as the lava poured out of him a rush of defeat. 

“Stupid stupid idiot...”

This is all he had left and Joel took it all from him.

He couldn’t think anymore. 

He couldn’t breath anymore. 

He just closed his swollen eyes and drifted into a numb state of nonbeing, not realizing that the cat had come to lay near his lower back, curled up in a black and white heap.




In the coffee shop in downtown China town, next to a newspaper stand, Joel was holding his head in his hands. 

The waitress had asked what he would like to drink. “Our teas are 50% off right now.” 

Joel looked up at her sharply as if she had offended his mother. His eyes burned from trying to hold back tears.

“Tea?” He hisses. 

“Y-yes sir,” her voice shook under his intense scowl. "We have chocolate tea, green tea, iced tea, chai tea, fr-” 

Joel cut her off, “Chai tea. I-I’ll have the _fucking_ chai tea....” his voice shook as he spoke and he avoided eye contact with the woman, sure she would be confused as to the use of foul language. “And it better not be that decaf crap.”

She promptly left and Joel looked out across the street to stare unfocused at the people passing by. 

His mind was clouded, unlike the day outside, he didn't feel himself, but he didn't know how feeling himself felt in the first place. He spent so long just living life alone, telling people to fuck off because he knew they wouldn’t like him anymore once he really opened up and showed how cruel he could become.

It hurt too much to trust people, so he refused to.   
  


It was just safer that way in the end.

The waitress returns, sliding him a green colored mug full of tea and leaves him again in a rush.

Joel looked down into the warm water, the heat turning his nose reddish and his eyes more watery than they already were.  
“I’m sorry Sonny..I am _so,_ so sorry..” He would only let himself surrender to emotion for a short amount of time, in the privacy of his own company.

He probably would never see Sonny again. He decided. He couldn’t be in love with him. He fucking couldn’t.

He was a coward, Joel admitted it to himself. 

He was a coward because he was so infatuated with him. 

He didn’t deserve Sonny. Sonny didn't need an emotionally incapable human being like Joel. Sonny deserved much better. 

He would take a plane, Joel decided. He would go back home later tonight (just to make sure Sonny was gone) and gather all his belongings, crate his cat and then take a plane somewhere. He didn’t know where, but he definitely could not stay in LA. Every street, pub, club and cafe had ghost pictures of Sonny’s smiling face etched in them. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for this city to longer _feel_ like Sonny to him anymore.

Joel watched the clouds roll by and wonders if Sonny was seeing the same clouds. 

He hated how much his heart hurt, more than any break up he’s ever had.

As he finished his last sip of chai tea, Joel took a deep breath, glancing down into the now empty cup.

”Maybe some day I won’t be such a fucking coward and...and we can meet again.” 

Joel speaks to his tea again, grips at the handle until his knuckles are white. He almost considers throwing it and watching it break apart. Just for fuck’s sake.

“Until then, I hope you can find yourself in this fucked up world.” 

Joel opens his wallet to leave payment on the table and, rising from his seat, takes out a cigarette to spark up. 

Joel takes one last glance at the mug, too many thoughts to handle running through his head, then he inhales the smoke, exhaling with a final sentence, 

“Until then, goblin.” before walking off into the smoldering California daylight, flicking ash to his side as he hangs his head and tries to forget Sonny ever existed.

_and then i wake up and you and i were never in love_

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> P.S you can imagine that the mental health related tweet from Joel in 2018 and the "♥️" response from Skrilly was closure to this fic. Stay safe friends.


End file.
